


Victories Stained by Oblivion

by SkyLeaf



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Amnesia, Awkward Romance, Communication, Complicated Relationships, F/M, Memory Loss, Misunderstandings, Post-Breath of the Wild, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 03:27:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19821592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyLeaf/pseuds/SkyLeaf
Summary: They had saved Hyrule. Now, the process of healing and trying to find themselves in a world that was at once unknown and yet so familiar it made his heart ache could begin.





	Victories Stained by Oblivion

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for Zelink Week 2019 for the prompt "Rebirth" since I want to see what would happen if those brief glimpses really were all Link could remember.

They returned to Hateno the day after Calamity Ganon had been sealed away for good.

Link supposed he should have come to think of the house as home in the months he had spent travelling through Hyrule, trying to gather the strength to defeat Ganon, but there had always been something there that kept him from being able to relax as he stepped over the threshold, the feeling of how there was something missing. He had tried his best to figure out what it was, had spent ages salvaging some of the books in Hyrule Castle that had survived both the Great Calamity and the century that had passed since then, placed one flower after another in the vase that stood in the middle of the table, but it had not helped. It was not until he opened up the door, stepping back to help Zelda follow along without risk of her stumbling, that Link realised what, or rather, who, had been missing.

For as Zelda stood there next to him, slowly turning around to take in the details of the house, the way the blade of Urbosa’s scimitar reflected the light that fell from the lamps hanging above the table, Link could feel in his heart that she had been the person missing, not only from the house, but from his life as a whole.

If he had had time, Link already knew what he would have said to her, how he would have told her that the house could be her home as well if she wanted it to be, but before he even had the chance to open his mouth, Zelda yawned, swaying to the side ever so slightly.

“Zelda!” Link moved instinctively, wrapping an arm around her and leaning back to keep them both from falling. Once he was sure that Zelda would not collapse, he tried his best to smile at her, but seeing the dull look in her eyes made the smile falter instantly, leaving him with only the question he had been waiting to ask her ever since he had first heard her voice after waking up inside the Shrine of Resurrection and learning about how she was waiting inside the castle for him to come and help her in her fight against Ganon. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.” Zelda’s voice was light as she answered, making it sound like part of her had been left behind in the castle as they had fled the place and the memories it had held, and she did blink a couple of times, her expression shifting first to surprise and then to thoughtfulness. “I—” placing a hand against her forehead, Zelda winched, taking a step backwards, the way she pressed her lips together telling Link how she was trying her best not to let out a pained yell, “yeah, I think I am simply rather tired.”

It should have dawned on him before that, after having fought to keep Ganon trapped within the confines of Hyrule Castle for more than a century, he would not be able to free her only for everything to be fine once more. And yet, in that moment, Link could feel how his stomach turned as he recalled the way Zelda had almost fallen from the horse while riding over the plains. Bach then, he had assumed that it was just the consequences of having only regained her physical form a few hours before, but now, as he saw the way Zelda reached out to plant her hand on the dinner table, pushing down in an attempt at keeping herself from falling over, the fact that the tired expression that was still etched into her face was the result of not having got a moment to rest for over a century seemed so obvious to him.

So, although he had already halfway gestured towards the table where the plates Uma had come to give him with only a cryptic smile and a nod the day after he had first bought the house gave the room a touch of something personal that might almost have been enough to hide the fact that he had barely been there, Link was quick to stop the movement before Zelda would have got the chance to see it, instead taking a step back. “Well, you also have not slept for years,” he said, hoping that the attempt at creating a joking tone would be enough, “so your body is probably telling you that it is time to catch up with all of that.” when Zelda did not answer, instead barely showing how she had indeed heard him with a nod, Link continued. “Uh, if you want to, you can have my bed—”

“No, I can’t do that, it is yours—”

“—because I think that you need it more than I do right now,” Link continued, trying his best not to acknowledge the pang of guilt as he simply spoke a bit louder to drown out Zelda’s protests, “and don’t try to tell me that you can’t accept it, because I know you would have done the same for me.”

With how Zelda smiled at him, a hint of sadness apparent in the way the muscles around her mouth tightened, Link got the feeling that it had already happened. Not for the first time, he found himself wishing that he would be able to recall more than a few glimpses of their past. If only he knew what it all meant, was able to piece together the reasons for why the sound of Zelda’s voice calling for his help had been enough to wake him up, to make him journey through all of Hyrule even when the only thing he had known about her was how she was the daughter of the old man who had revealed himself to be the former king of Hyrule, why the thought of her being trapped inside the castle had been enough to make him face enemies he could barely remember, relying solely on his muscles leading the sword in his hand for him. The worst part of it was that he knew how it was all there, hiding away in the depths of his mind, and there were times where Link had almost managed to convince himself that he could reach the memories, could figure out the reasons, but they always disappeared before his eyes just as he thought he might finally have found them.

But none of that mattered when Zelda reached out to accept his help with walking up the stairs to the tiny second floor.

“Thank you,” she said, her eyes twinkling in the dim lightning of the room, making it so that Link could almost have fooled himself into thinking that perhaps the past really did not matter to him anymore, not when he could now see that she would be all right in the end, “for—for everything.” maintaining eye contact for just a few seconds more, Zelda turned away from him, leaving Link behind to try to figure out why the words had sounded like they were about so much more than just how he had offered her a home when they had stood out there in the field, even about more than how he had helped her defeat Ganon when he had freed the Divine Beasts.

He did not get a chance to ask about what exactly she had meant to thank him for, as Zelda did not wait for his response before all but crawling up onto the bed. Within seconds, her even breathing told him that she had already fallen asleep, so, although his mind was spinning with questions about just what she had meant to thank him for, Link refrained from asking anymore, instead pulling the blanket over her and taking a step backwards.

Right then, as he stood there, it was almost easy to forget about their past. In Hateno, they were not the princess and her knight, and although part of him ached for the familiarity of the role, to regain the title that conveyed exactly what was expected of him and what he had to do, as Link looked down at Zelda and saw how she looked completely at peace, having turned around slightly, pulling the blanket up to her cheek, he would gladly have given up even those few memories he had regained during the months he had spent believing that he was completely alone, if it meant that she would be able to stay that way forever.

+++

Although Link might have been content simply letting Zelda rest, to give her the chance to pursue her quest for knowledge and try to tell her that, although he could barely remember her, what little he did know was enough for him to confidently be able to assure her that what she had feared about the future and herself, the way he sometimes saw her cry when he closed his eyes and let the memories that almost felt like they belonged to a stranger take him back to the night he had spent standing with his back to her while he could hear her plead with the goddess, trying her best to fight the tears, had never been true and would never become true, he knew that the arrival of a stranger was not something the people around them were used to. Already when Link had arrived, the few times his injuries had required for him to return to the house he had bought to give himself time to rest, his days had been filled with visits from those around him, the way they always simply happened to pass by to knock on the door, trying their best to step into the house to get a chance to look at the things he had hung on the walls, ignoring how he tried to insist that he was perfectly fine and that the bandage around his leg was nothing to worry about, always managing to take him by surprise even when he should have known better and predict that the knowledge of how he, the person who had arrived one day to buy a house and then disappear again the next day, always coming back with bruised skin and wounds that formed long lines along his skin, had returned, bringing someone along with him who had not left the house for almost a day, would mean that the visits would only increase—both in numbers and insistence.

That was why Link, once he woke up from his nap to find that Zelda was still asleep and that his body was aching after having spent the last couple of hours sitting slumped over in a chair, knew that he would have to make some kind of announcement before Zelda would wake up as well to find herself bombarded with unwanted attention.

Perhaps it was his former life and the way he had sworn to protect her that resurfaced as he walked out of the house, already mentally preparing himself for the battle he would face. Link really did not know. All that mattered in that moment was how he knew that Zelda would not want for everyone’s eyes to rest on her every time she would have to leave the house, and so, Link would have to take care of that before she would wake up.

It was almost laughably easy to figure out who he had to talk to for the news about how he had helped a traveller find her way through a forest, offering her to stay with him for a while after she had been wounded by one of the monsters that roamed the roads, to reach the entire village.

Amira and Nikki watched him with wide eyes as he explained to them how the traveller needed rest now and that he was not sure how long she would stay with them in Hateno Village, only that he knew he had to protect her.

“Will you promise me not to tell anyone about this conversation?” Link asked, pretending not to notice the way their excitement faltered a bit at that. “I, uh, I just think that she needs to be left alone for a bit, so if you would make sure that no one hears about this, I would be very grateful.”

They glanced at each other, seemingly believing that Link did not notice the way Amira’s hands shook and how Nikki was already silently repeating what he had just told them.

In the end, Amira was the first to regain the ability to speak. “Of course we won’t,” she said, and had it not been for how Link was careful not to let his face reveal his thoughts, he was sure he would have smiled at the idea that the news of Zelda’s arrival as well as the instruction about not to bother her would not have reached everyone in the town within the next hour, “we are just glad that we could help.”

“So am I,” Link said, and right then, there was no need for him to lie. Although Amira and Nikki might not have known exactly how they had helped, fact was that by ensuring that Zelda would not be forced to share her story with anyone before the moment she was ready to do so, they had already done more for him than what Link could ever hope to thank them for.

He had halfway turned away from them, already running back towards the house to see if Zelda had woken up in his mind, when Amira continued. “Is there anything we can do for her?”

“What do you mean?” as Link looked back at her, he was certain that the surprise was evident in both his voice and on his face.

“Well,” Amira glanced at Nikki, “if she had been through all that, having travelled around all alone until you found her and now having to rely on a stranger for help—not that I think it would have been better if you had not helped her,” she hurried to add, “but it must be lonely for her right now, not even to mention how she does not have anywhere to go but here. Does she even own anything?”

Having halfway opened his mouth to tell them that he was already planning to go back to Hyrule Castle to see if there were any relics from the past he could still save and bring back to Zelda, Link found himself unable to continue. For fact was that, while he had tried his best, the only thing he had been able to give to her while they had journeyed back to Hateno Village had been the clothes he had remembered her wearing in those brief flashes from his past he would sometimes view when he slept, and even then, the garments had not been able to withstand the passage of time, the boots feeling like they were close to falling apart when he had found them lying among the rubble that covered every corner of her bedchambers.

“No,” Link heard himself admit, his voice sounding like it did not belong to him, “no, I don’t think she does.”

Perhaps he should have worried about the way Amira turned to Nikki to whisper something to her, but right in that moment, Link found himself unable to focus on anything but the fact that, where he at least could only remember a fraction of what he had lost during the Great Calamity, Zelda must be able to remember it all. Why had he not thought about that before? Now that he was aware of it, it felt wrong how he had been able to show her his house, reminding her that, although it was little more than a place for him to rest during those moments where he found himself unable to continue with his quest, he at least had a place to call home.

He was almost grateful when Nikki’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts, making him instead look up at her to see her cocking her head slightly, a sympathetic expression replacing that of annoyance he usually saw her exhibit while talking with him. “We will try to figure something out,” she promised, and although Link knew the tone in which she said it should have worried him, right then, he was only able to nod.

+++

Zelda awoke on the second day after having arrived in Hateno Village.

As she slowly made her way down the stairs, gripping the handrail so tightly that her knuckles turned white, Link could not help but wonder why he had not done more to come to Hyrule Castle sooner. Of course, rationally, he knew that he had done all he could possibly have done, had pushed himself to his limits and beyond, but still. There had been days where he had been unable to do much else than lie on the ground and hope that the pain he felt in his ribs would lessen soon, that the elixir was working and that the exhaustion washing over him was not a sign of how his body would not be able to cope with everything he was putting it through for much longer. And through it all, Zelda had been in that castle, fighting the Calamity, waiting for him to come and help her.

“Link,” Zelda said, pulling him out of his thoughts. Her voice sounded tired, like she struggled with properly pronouncing the words, but as he looked over at her, doing his best not to let his expression reveal his thoughts, she still smiled at him before gesturing towards the flower vase standing on the table, “are those… what I think they are?”

They were indeed. Although he had not expected for her to wake up so soon after having not slept for a century, Link had not wanted to risk that she would wake up to find herself without anything to serve as a reminder of their old life, so he had set out for Kakariko Village, remembering the flowers he could find nearby.

“They are,” he answered as he found the words, “I, uh, I hoped you would like them.”

That was all it took for Zelda to run towards him, wrapping her arms around him as she pulled him in for a tight embrace.

Had he been prepared for that to happen, Link might have worried about how he would react to the sudden contact, whether or not the months he had spent travelling alone, only meeting people in the towns he always had to leave in the morning, and with the closest thing to physical contact he could find being that of a monster that had decided to try to hit his leg, would have made him unable to stand the feeling of another person coming close to him again, but now, he could see how there had never been a need for him to worry. Nothing happened, he did not panic, he did not freeze, no, he simply hugged her back, trying his best not to think about how this, the fact that Zelda had hugged him without prior warning, most likely meant that this was how it used to be between them. There was nothing he could do to get the past back—it was better for him not to let himself sink into despair over that fact.

“Thank you,” Zelda said, and as she pulled away from him, Link was surprised to see how her eyes where shiny, the tears already forming in the corners. While he had hesitated for a moment before placing the flowers in the flower vase, fearing that perhaps being reminded of her past was the last thing Zelda needed, he had not thought that she would cry after thanking him. Thankfully, Zelda was quick to continue, not letting Link lose himself in his thoughts, “I—it means a lot to me.”

Her voice rose halfway through the last sentence, just enough for Link to understand that, once, the flowers would have meant something to him as well. He supposed that they still did, in a way, but with the expectant look Zelda was sending him, Link knew that the fact he had looked at them and immediately thought of Zelda was not quite enough, would never be the same as the meaning they had once held for them, and that they most likely never would again.

So, clearing his throat, Link tried his best not to let it show how he wished he would be able to simply lie to her, to return the smile and the fond expression. That was not him, it had never been, and he knew how he must have looked right then, confused and lost, but, nevertheless, he found the words to answer. “I am happy to hear that.”

Link could see how Zelda attempted to hide her disappointment, the way her smile faltered a bit before she thought to hide it by bringing her hand up to her mouth, faking a yawn. “Well, thank you,” she repeated again, but now, her voice did not contain the same joy as it had before, “I think I should probably head out now. Is it true that Purah lives right up on this mountain above the village?”

Purah. Link was not sure how he had managed not to realise the connection until then, how he had not been able to guess that of course Zelda would want to see Purah the moment she woke up, and now that he knew, he found himself almost wishing that it was not the case, that he would be able to find the memory to let him known exactly what Zelda had really wanted him to say after she had woken up, what the right response to her comment about the flowers would have been.

But one look at her face and the way the hope had returned to her eyes was enough to make him give up the tiny, selfish hope that he could somehow dissuade her from visiting Purah, at least for a moment, to give them a chance to talk about what had happened. It felt wrong to even think it, but the fact that Zelda might very well be the only person able to tell him about his own life was not something Link could forget about.

Still, he was supposed to protect her, and he supposed that part of that would be to help her achieve her dreams, so although he would rather have reached out towards her to try to convince her to stay for just a moment longer so that he could ask her about the flowers, Link nodded. “Yes, she lives there with her assistant, Symin. I don’t think you know him, do you?”

When Zelda shook her head, Link tried to quell the smug sense of satisfaction that filled his heart at the thought of how there, finally, was something he knew that Zelda did not, instead focusing on the guilt that followed right behind it. It was only right, after all, Zelda had never asked for his memory to be stolen from him, no one could have predicted that it would be the cost of being resurrected, not even to mention the fact that, although he had tried his best not to ponder the question, Link knew that if he had been in Zelda’s place and forced to make the choice she had found herself faced with after he had collapsed, he would have done the exact same thing in a heartbeat.

The way Zelda had tilted her head to the side, knitting her eyebrows, told him that he had been silent for far too long, so, trying his best to hide the reasons for it, Link pointed in the general direction of the tech lab. “I can accompany you if you want.”

Already as he had suggested it, Link knew what Zelda’s answer would be, but that did not keep his stomach from sinking to the floor when he saw her shake her head, the motion unsure and strangely stiff. “No,” she said, looking down at the floor, clearly doing everything she could to avoid meeting his gaze, “no, I can find it on my own.”

Link did not get a chance to say anything after that, as Zelda simply turned around and left, the door closing behind her with a soft thud. But, even then, Link did not miss the way Zelda pulled her sleeve down a bit to cover the palm of her hand before reaching up to press the heel of her hand against her eyes, almost like she was trying her best to wipe away the tears.

He knew that he and the flowers in the vase were to blame for how Zelda’s mood had suddenly changed. That much, he could figure out. But the answer to the question of just what she had hoped for him to say was a puzzle to Link, and although he knew exactly where the missing piece was, how it would be located within one of the memories he still could not recall, the answer was just as unclear as it had been when he had first shown her his house as Link sat down in one of the chairs, finding himself unable to remain standing for even a moment longer. In front of him, the little bouquet of Silent Princesses almost seemed to mock him, their petals glowing slightly in the dim lightning, and it was nothing but the memory of Zelda and how the flowers had been the thing to finally bring out a genuine smile, that kept him from letting them fall into the pond next to his house.

+++

After that, Link made sure not to make any gestures when he was not absolutely certain that he would not accidentally remind Zelda of all they had lost when the Great Calamity had struck. As the flowers wilted, Zelda throwing them away with a look on her face that let him know how it was the last thing she wanted to do, he made sure to replace them with Swift Violets instead and pretended not to see the way Zelda looked at him during dinner, the way her gaze would flicker between his face and the flower vase throughout the entire meal, the hurt look on her face making it evident that, while he might not have known about it, those flowers had once meant something to them.

In a way, it was infuriating. All those days he had spent travelling through Hyrule, trying his best to find aid, people who could help him with his quest to free the princess, he had always imagined that the moment they would have sealed Ganon away for good, all their problems would disappear as well.

But now, Link found that they were still present, only now, he did not have a clear goal to strive towards. He did not know what to do. One day, he would be completely prepared to sit down to talk with Zelda, to try to ask her what was wrong and why she spent more and more of her time in the Hateno Ancient Tech Lab, but just as he would be about to open his mouth, the sound of Zelda telling him to leave her alone, insisting that she did not need his help would echo in his ears, and no amount of assuring himself that it was all in the past, that he knew how they had established something that felt a lot like friendship, was enough to make it so that he could make himself tell her about his struggles. Other days, the only thing Link wanted to do was to leave it all behind, to tell Zelda that he would not be able to stay there in Hateno with her anymore before wishing her good luck and continuing his journey into the unknown. But something always kept him from going through with it, and more than anything, Link wished that he had a way to figure out whether it was the fact that, if he left the village, not only would his past still be a mystery to him, but so would his future, or if it was the way he would still sometimes wake up in the middle of the night to hear Zelda scream, her eyes being wide and scared when he would finally be able to pull her back to reality and those nights often ending with him spending hours trying to figure out what he could possibly tell her that would not make it all even worse, that kept him from leaving it all behind. But no matter the reason, fact was that he stayed.

And there were times where he was happy he did. Of course there were. Those few times where Zelda sometimes seemed to forget about how he could only recall glimpses of their past together, running into the house with the Sheikah Slate in her hands, already rambling to him about a breakthrough in her research when Link had finally woken up enough to pull out a chair for her, were perhaps the happiest moments in his new life, and although it sometimes felt like he would never be able to remember the reasons for why Zelda’s gaze would sometimes linger on him for a bit longer than what it felt like she had used to do or why his mind always flew back to her when he would see the apples growing on the trees outside or the ducks in the pond, Link could only hope that, with time, his memories would return as well. Peace and time, he would simply have to hope that those two would be enough to bring back his memory.

But while they seemed to have plenty of time, the day where the peace ended came sooner than Link had thought. While he had not been able to completely forget about the promise Amira and Nikki had made when he had done everything he could to make sure that Zelda would be able to walk through the village without having to explain to everyone why she was there and what her story was, after Zelda had been awake for a week, Link had assumed that they themselves had forgot about it, or that they had perhaps decided that Zelda did not need their help.

He had been wrong.

The first sign that sometimes was not the way it usually was greeted Link the moment he had crossed the bridge connecting his little plot of land with the rest of the village.

The door was open.

With his hear beating a quick rhythm against his ribs, his hands already reaching for his sword, Link crouched down. Immediately, memories of the Yiga Clan and the way they had been able to disguise themselves as travellers flooded his mind, the rush of fear at the thought that he had never thought to warn Zelda about how they were still there and trying to get revenge on him sweeping over him in a dizzying mix of adrenaline and cold sweat.

Not now, not Zelda, please, they could not have found them now, not after everything they had already sacrificed to save Hyrule. It would simply not be right for it to happen now.

But if there was one thing his quest had taught Link, it was that the world around him did not care about what was right. Zelda had tried everything to awaken her sealing powers in time and yet, she had lost everything. So, making sure that he would be able to parry any attack, Link slowly crept forward, towards the entrance of the house, at once both fearing what he might hear once he got closer to their home and fearing that he might be met with silence.

That the sound of roaring laughter would meet him just as he had made it to the wall, readying his sword to allow him to take the attackers by surprise was not what Link had expected, and despite the adrenaline flowing through his veins, it was almost enough to make him drop the sword, only managing to regain his grip on it at the last second.

Lowering the sword only enough so that he would not appear to have been ready to attack at a moment’s notice, Link stepped into the house only to be met with the sight of what appeared to be a mountain of fabric, Zelda, Amira, and Sophie standing next to it.

“Uh,” Link began, trying to make sense of what he was seeing, “what is going on here?”

That made them look up, Zelda taking a step towards him, letting go of what appeared to be a sleeve. “Link!” she said, and it felt like someone had plunged a Frostspear into his chest when he realised how it was the first time in days where he had seen her look truly happy, the smile giving off the impression that she could almost have been glowing, lighting up the entire room. “Come on, we have guests!” she gestured towards Amira and Sophie like that alone would be enough for him to understand what was going on, but, seeing how happy she was, Link did not dare to ask any questions and risk that it would make it all end, so he simply nodded and tried not to let it show how he was still trying his best to figure out what was happening.

Thankfully, it seemed that Amira had guessed what was wrong, or perhaps she simply found herself unable not to tell him about what had happened since the last time he had seen her. Right in that moment, Link really did not care much for the explanation, all that mattered was the fact that she nodded, first at him and then towards Zelda. “Yes, we,” she motioned towards Sophie, “thought that since you had just arrived here, you might need a little help. I am sorry, I know you said that the two of you needed peace, but when Sophie asked me about the new girl, I simply had to tell her everything I knew! And when she heard about how Zelda here did not have anything at all, well, we thought that we could at least help with providing some clothes.”

Although Link had expected for the news about Zelda to spread through the village, this, the visit and the pile of fabric he could now see was really a couple of pants and tunics, was very much not something he had planned for. Sending a short glance towards Zelda, he tried his best to gauge what story she had told the two guests, already mentally berating himself for having not told her about the story he had made up for the village to hear.

“So,” Link said, shoving his hands into his pockets to hide how they were shaking, “you just decided to do all this?”

“We did,” Sophie confirmed, “I mean, it was nothing really, most of these are a bit worn and there are a couple of mistakes on the hem of this tunic, but,” she shrugged, “we thought that it would be better than nothing.”

At that, Zelda stepped over, placing her hand on Sophie’s arm, and while Link had halfway been about to tell her that it was not a good idea, Sophie did not withdraw her arm, instead returning the smile Zelda sent her. “No,” Zelda said, a bit of the same authority she had possessed when she had been the princess of Hyrule seeping into her voice, “it is not nothing, or at least it means a lot to me. Truly, I can’t thank you enough for all of this.”

“Uh,” Sophie stammered, and maybe she was able to tell that the story Link had told Amira would not be able to explain Zelda’s posture and the way she looked at her like she was ready to fight for her opinion, for her gaze wandered from Zelda, over to Amira, before finally landing on Link.

Praying that he would not make the situation even tenser, Link decided that it was time for him to try to salvage what little of the lie he might still be able to save, so, clearing his throat to ensure he would have their full attention, he walked over to stand next to Zelda. “Well, in that case, thank you so much,” he said, making sure that he stood so that they would not be able to see the way his hands twitched, almost begging for him to reach out for the sword. It was ridiculous, there were no enemies here, it was simply a matter of the rest of the village having decided to try their best to make Zelda feel at home, and yet, he did not seem to be able to convince himself of that, every single muscle in his body wanting to reach for the sword. The energy it required of him to be able to ignore the urge and the way the Master Sword called for him to wield it again almost seemed too much for him, and right then, Link was not sure how he was able to keep his voice even as he sent Amira and Sophie a strained smile, “but I fear that Zelda and I still have quite a lot to talk about—about her past and what we can do to help her… feel at home, I mean.”

Where Sophie knitted her brows, it seemed that Amira understood what he had really tried to tell them, for, although she sent him a frown not unlike what he had usually been greeted by those few times where he had attempted to listen in to her and Nikki’s conversations, she nodded. “Of course.” turning back towards Zelda, she added. “If there is anything you need, anything at all, don’t hesitate to say so. I know that everyone here is hoping for you to be able to stay.” with that, she took Sophie’s hand and left the house. Link could not tell if she had meant to slam the front door shut or if it was an accident, but the way Amira had looked at him before leaving told him that the former was the most likely option.

“Link, what are you doing?” Zelda’s voice forced him to look over at her again, and while he had expected to see the confused look in her eyes, the annoyance that shone through in the way she had crossed her arms in front of her chest still took him by surprise. “They were only trying to help.”

In that moment, Link felt like the knight he had seen himself as in those memories, the way he could not find the right words to explain how he had only done what he had thought would be the best for her reminding him too much of how those few memories of his first months at Hyrule Castle had been filled with silence and loneliness. But he forced himself to ignore it and not to mumble as he answered. “I am sorry, I just thought that it would be best if we got the chance to figure out what story we can tell them about you, why you are here, where you came from, and all that. I have already told them a bit before you woke up, and, well…”

“You were afraid that I would say something that would contradict it?” Zelda finished for him. When he nodded, Link could see how the anger evaporated, Zelda instead shaking her head lightly. “Goddesses, Link I am so sorry, I had not thought about that. Well, I suppose that we might as well try to piece the story together now and then just hope that I haven’t already said anything that is going to ruin it.” a short smile devoid of any humour graced her lips. “That is all we can really do now, is it not?”

Link knew that she was right, and still, the only thing he wanted to do was to be able to forget about how he could still feel the way the stony surface had felt against his knee when he had knelt while being knighted. If he could only forget about the way he had sworn to protect her, then perhaps Link would have been able to tell her how he knew he would need some sort of story as well, a way for him to be able to return to a sense of normalcy. Without the duty of being a true knight and the task he had been given only moments after waking up, perhaps he would have been able to reach out towards her and beg for her help. But, while he could not reach his memories, it was also not possible for him to forget about those few glimpses he had been able to recall, so although Link would rather have asked Zelda if she could tell him about what the reasons for why she did not look him in the eye as they sat down at the dining table were, he pushed the thought and the need for clarity away to instead focus on making sure that they would be able to tell the same story the next time someone would ask about Zelda’s past. Protecting her was, after all, the only thing he could do now.

+++

It seemed that Amira and Sophie’s visit had only been the beginning. Over the next couple of weeks, it felt like half the village had just happened to spot the house and decide to have a look inside to Link, always bringing something along to hand to Zelda. Part of him wanted to believe that that was really all those visits were and that the feelings of unease that stirred in his stomach each time he heard someone knock on the door, Zelda always pushing herself up from the chair to go open it before Link had got the chance to warn her about how the Yiga Clan was still looking for him, was simply a result of the way strangers had always meant danger during those months he had travelled through Hyrule, but no matter how many times Zelda invited the guest inside, chatting with Ivee about the economy, or trying to talk with Senna about the future of the dye shop, his first instinct when Zelda would open the door was always to look down to his side to make sure that the Master Sword was still there.

It was illogical, Link knew that. He was perfectly aware of how Zelda, after thanking the guest for the present they had brought would always turn around to see how he was still sitting at the table, hand resting on the hilt of the Master Sword and that the sight would always cause her to sigh, avoiding his glance when she would sit back down again, but even then, he simply could not stop his heart from beating so furiously in his chest each time someone stepped into the house that it was a wonder no one had been able to hear it yet.

After only a few weeks, Link knew that he would not be able to continue that way for much longer, and so, he began to spend more time outside the house, only returning home to sleep and eat. It was a bad idea, he knew that, realised that, while it did bring an end to the worried sighs and the way Zelda would always draw her brows together when seeing how the latest visit had made him freeze, it also meant that every meal was eaten in almost total silence as Zelda soon gave up on attempting to make conversation during those hours they spent together, but even then, he could not stop himself from wandering around the village every day, occasionally walking along the roads he knew would eventually bring him back to the Great Plateau.

However, even though the silence in the house created a stark contrast to the way his thoughts never gave him a moment of peace, always trying to piece together what had happened between him and Zelda, how it could be that everything he said appeared to have been the wrong thing to tell her, the opposite of what she had hoped for, he never truly entertained the idea of simply leaving it all behind. There were of course times where the thought of continuing into the unknown, to go somewhere where there was no one to let him know that he was different from how he had once been, was more tempting than what Link would have liked to admit, but, in the end, he knew that he would not be able to leave Zelda behind, not only because she was perhaps the only person who might ever be able to tell him about his past, but also because he could not quite forget the way she had smiled when she had first seen the bouquet of Silent Princesses. That had been the one time during the weeks that had passed since they had defeated Ganon where Link had felt the hope bloom in his chest, the smile telling him that perhaps there was a chance that he might be able to remember his past someday, for Link doubted he would not be able to remember it if Zelda had smiled at him like that before. And while the air between them had grown even colder and silent after he had seemingly failed to tell Zelda what she wanted to hear, fact was that he could still remember the smile when he closed his eyes. No, Link was not able to leave her.

It was one of his walks through the village that brought him to pass around the corner, already heading towards the Hateno Ancient Tech Lab, only to find Zelda sitting right there in front of him, seemingly absorbed in her conversation with Uma, if the way she was leaning closer towards her, the chair almost tipping underneath her, as Zelda nodded to every word Uma said, was any indication. From the way she was clutching a the hem of her tunic, her grip being so tight that her knuckles turned white, Link could tell how, even though he was not able to make out exactly what they were saying, it was important to Zelda, and in that moment, he did not know whether he should step forward and let them know that he was there or turn around and try to walk back in towards the village, abandoning his plans of going to visit Purah to ask if she had any ideas about how he could possibly regain his memories to instead not disturb them.

But, in the end, his doubts about what he should do only made him freeze, standing still rather than doing anything. Despite how he did not make a sound, it did not take more than a couple of seconds before Uma glanced over towards him, leaning to the side to be able to look past Zelda, and with how she waved at him, Link already knew that she had spotted him, but although he knew he should walk over to them, he could not make himself do anything but stand still.

“Link!” Uma yelled, and now, it was enough for Zelda to turn around as well, making Link keep his gaze fixed on Uma’s face to spare himself the pain of having to see if Zelda was angry or sad. It did not appear that Uma noticed anything, for she motioned for him to move closer towards them. “Zelda and I were talking about the Age of Burning Fields—why don’t you come over and join us?”

“Uh,” Link began, glancing over at Zelda. Her reaction would have to decide what he would do. Already, he hoped that she would try to send him a discreet sign to leave, but of course, he would not be that lucky, as Zelda nodded. Even the slight hint of a smile that accompanied the motion was not enough to keep Link’s voice from trembling as he forced himself to walk over to them, sitting down on the one free chair, “fine then, but I fear I will not be able to stay here for long.”

“Neither do I.” Uma laughed. “Trust me, when you get as old as I am, you will long for the days of your youth when you were able to run around and do as you pleased!” she looked over at Zelda who simply sent her a strained smile.

He had to do something now, before he would lose control of the situation, so, speaking a bit louder than what was strictly necessary, Link quickly led her attention back to him, clearing his throat. “Well, I have to admit that I know very little of the time you are talking about, so if you would please explain it to me again, then I would be grateful.” next to him, Link could see how Zelda let go of the tunic, letting her hand fall back to hang by her side instead, in the process letting it brush against his. From what little he could remember from his life before the Calamity, Link was certain that Zelda had been raised to always be aware of every little movement, to be so in control of everything that the gesture could not have been a coincidence, and although he knew that what he had done was such a little thing it hardly called for a silent thankyou, the warmth still spread through his chest at the thought of having finally done something that helped her rather than caused her even more pain.

Thankfully, it did not appear that Uma noticed anything, or at least she had already shifted slightly in her seat, glancing up towards the sky as she began her story. “I cannot remember much from the Age of Burning Fields itself—I was born during it, you see—but my parents used to tell me stories of the kingdom that had once rested here before the Calamity devoured everything it could reach. It was a magnificent place, with bustling towns scattered throughout the land, a population that enjoyed the peace that had lasted for millennia, and, in the very centre of it all, Hyrule Castle, rising up above the town to show how it was there to protect the people of Hyrule.” Uma sighed, and it seemed that she was so lost in her memories that she did not see how Zelda’s face grew darker when she continued again. “They used to tell me that the princess that lived there had been meant to seal away the forces behind the Calamity, but that she was unable to do it.”

“But the Calamity did not destroy all of Hyrule, did it?” Link argued. “I mean, if it had, then we would not have been here, so this princess, she must have found a way to stop the Calamity before it got the chance to reach the far corners of the kingdom, am I not right?”

Uma tapped a finger against her chin, sending him a long glance. “I suppose you are,” she finally said, just when Link had begun to wonder whether or not he would have to ask her again, “yes, something or someone did indeed find the strength in the end to put an end to the Calamity’s destruction, which brings me to what Zelda and I were just discussing—the time that came after the initial attack.” she leant back as much as the uneven terrain would allow her to do without risk of the chair tipping beneath her. “I was born after the land around us had begun to heal so although it was nothing like it now is, life in Hyrule was far safer than what it had been in years, the merchants who had now found the courage to travel from village to village making it so that we were able to maintain some sort of contact with the rest of Hyrule. But even then, I remember my mother telling me about how there had been rumours in the years following the Great Calamity that the princess might have survived the attack and that she would return to us one day to help rebuild the kingdom that had been lost. Yes, I know, I know,” Uma laughed, “I am far too old to believe such childish tales, but it was nevertheless the stories my mother used to tell me when she said goodnight.”

“Uma,” Zelda said, reaching out to take her hand, the sudden movement almost making Link fall off his chair, “I don’t think it is childish. Really, if anything, I believe that any story that might help you through something like that is wise to hold on to.”

A single look at Zelda told Link what he had already known deep down; that, though she might attempt to not let them see, Zelda could not hide how her lower lip quivered, her eyes growing shiny, the distant look telling him that, while she might physically be younger than Uma, in that very moment, she had mentally gone back to the time before Uma had even been born, to the era both of them had once belonged to.

And perhaps Uma saw it as well, for she cocked her head as she sent Zelda a little smile. “In that case, I hope we can find a moment to discuss this again another time, for I have to head home now.” with that, she stood up and slowly began to make her way back towards her house.

Link was not sure if he had expected that they would simply do the same, that they would get up to go back home. Those last couple of weeks where they had both lived in Hateno Village, he could not remember a single instance where he had truly been certain about anything, the tiny whisper serving to remind him of how he had yet to discover the world around him and how he could only recall a fraction of his life before Zelda had found herself with no other option than the place him in the Shrine of Resurrection always being present in the back of his mind. Even then, he only noticed how Zelda had barely moved a muscle after he had already pushed himself off the chair.

“Zelda?” he tried, slowly moving closer to her to crouch down in front of her. “Is something wrong? Are you all right?”

For a second, Zelda seemed to be about to shake her head, and Link could already hear how the insistence that she was really fine and that he did not have to worry about her was making its way from her brain to her mouth, but, at the last moment, Zelda appeared to change her mind, her perfect posture disappearing in an instant as she slumped over. “No,” she said, and although she brought her hands up to her face, closing her eyes, it was not enough to hide how the tears where streaming down her cheeks, “no… I am not.”

“Will you tell me about it?” Link asked, already prepared for her to tell him that no, she did not want to share her pain with him, that this was something she could handle on her own.

But, while she hesitated for a moment, in the end, Zelda did send him a short nod, the gesture being so tiny that, had it not been for how he was already sitting so that only a few centimetres of air separated them, Link knew he would not have noticed it. “Yes, I—I suppose I should do that.” Zelda’s voice was barely more than a whisper as she took a deep breath. And then, seemingly forcing herself to speak so quickly that it did not give her a chance to change her mind, she opened her eyes and continued. “Link, do you think it would have been better if… if we had not gone here?” Link must have let out a sound of confusion, for Zelda hurried to clarify. “I mean, do you think it would have been better if I had tried to rebuild Hyrule, to claim my title and the crown again rather than coming with you here to Hateno Village? For I must admit that there are times where I can’t help but ponder that question. Not even to mention how I and Hyrule have already taken so much more from you than what is right—your family, your home, goddesses, Link, your position and duty nearly killed you! And… I don’t know, but don’t you ever wonder if it would perhaps have been better if we had allowed our paths to separate after we had defeated Ganon so that you would have been able to continue your adventures?”

Until then, Link had been unsure of what he could say to answer the question, but as Zelda looked over at him, waiting for his answer, he knew exactly what his response would be. After all, had Zelda’s presence and the fact that he still sometimes had to calm her after one of the nightmares that seemed to plague her every night not been the only thing keeping him from leaving the village and everyone in it behind more times than he could count? Where would he be had it not been for the fact that, no matter how wide the divide between them had become in the weeks that had passed since Zelda had returned, she was the only constant about the life he now had to form for himself in a world that, while it was growing more familiar to him with each passing day, was ultimately still the result of a time he could not recall?

It was thoughts like these that allowed Link to let his voice be completely firm when he answered. “No.” Zelda looked over at him, confusion apparent on her face, so he continued. “No. Ever since I woke up in that shrine, your voice was the only thing in the world that seemed at least a little familiar, so during all those months I spent making my way through Hyrule, the fact that I knew I had to save you were at times the only reason I was able to continue. So, no, there was never a moment when I thought about leaving you.”

“But how can you know that that is not simply due to how you are still thinking of yourself as a knight?” Zelda insisted, and for some reason, Link could not help but wonder if she had decided not to stop arguing until he had finally admitted that they had made the wrong decision back then. “How can you know that your soul does not really want for you to be free, only for the years you spent as a knight, tasked to protect the royal family, to keep you from admitting that to yourself? How can you say for certain that it is not simply the memories from our lives before the Calamity that are forcing you to stay here with me?”

Link let out a short laugh that sounded sharp and cold, even to himself. “Zelda, I can promise you that my memories have not been able to influence my decision to stay with you.”

“But how? How can you know that?” Zelda asked, and now, Link could truly hear the frustration seeping into her words, her voice gaining the same sharp edge he had first noticed when he had found himself unable to remember the reason why the Silent Princesses had once been important to them.

“I know that because I can still barely remember anything from my life before the Calamity.”

“What?” Zelda’s eyes widened. “You mean that… that you don’t remember anything?” Link nodded, not trusting himself to say anything, not with the way the tears were pressing against his yes, almost making it impossible for him not to cry. Zelda shook her head. “Goddesses, Link, I—I was so sure that you remembered, I thought that after everything, after how much time we had spent together—I had assumed I would have been able to tell if you still had not recovered all of your memories. I am sorry, I should have known better than to assume things, I can’t apologise enough for—”

“No,” Link waved his hand, brushing her apologies aside. With how Zelda was looking at him, the horror as she seemed to recall every interaction from the past couple of weeks etched into her features, he could tell that they were coming close to the exact scenario he had feared, the reason for why he had not simply told her that he did not remember anything the first time he had realised that she was not aware of how his memories still only consisted of a few pieces of a much bigger puzzle—that she would blame herself for having not somehow figured it all out, ignoring how he had done his best to hide it from her, “it isn’t your fault, I was the one to choose to try to make it so that you would not find out about it.”

“But I should have been able to see it,” Zelda insisted, “I—I knew that you had lost your memories—Goddesses, I even _asked_ you if you could remember me, and yet, I was able to convince myself that I had nothing to worry about, that you could remember it all. I am so sorry—all those times where you acted like you did not remember me and I left, because I thought that you were angry at me and Hyrule for having stolen your life away from you and that that was the reason why you pretended not to know what the things around us meant to me, what they had once meant to both of us, you really did not remember anything, did you?”

Link already knew what would happen as soon as he confirmed how that was very much the case, that it would only make Zelda blame herself for all the times they had danced around one another, doing their best to avoid having to talk with the other and to generally try to isolate themselves, and yet, he saw no other option than to admit the truth.

While the way Zelda looked like she was on the verge of tears did make him wish that he would have been able to lie and tell her that it was not the case, Link nodded. “No, I had no idea what any of it meant. I mean, I knew that some of the things were important to you—had once been important to us—but I could not figure out the reason. I only knew that my reaction had been the opposite of what you had expected when you pulled away from me.” for some reason, the words felt wrong in his mouth, only the little word ‘us’ making it feel more natural, the same way the sound of the blade of the Master Sword had sung when it had first cut through the air, the music it created making Link feel like the other weapons he had found himself used to wield before finding his own sword had all been wrong somehow, none of them being able to compete with the feeling of knowing that he had finally come home again, having found the sword that had saved his life so many times.

“Link, I…” the way Zelda shook her head, almost like she was trying to quieten her thoughts pulled Link back to the present. “I don’t know—I know that it is too late now, but I want you to know that I am so sorry for all the times where I—” the last part of the word never made it over her lips, Zelda instead looking down at the ground between them, the look in her eyes telling Link that she was not really seeing the flowers that grew among the blades of grass. Finally, she met his gaze once more, the gesture seemingly almost draining her of her energy. “I should have known better, I should have talked with you rather than assuming the worst and begin to isolate myself. I am sorry.”

More than anything, Link wanted to be able to put his arm around her and assure her that there was no need for her apology, that he had always known that she would never have acted like that if he had simply admitted the truth and told her that, apart from the brief glimpses and the slight echo of the words they had once said to each other, he could not remember anything from his life before the moment where her voice had awoken him inside the Shrine of Resurrection. But no matter how many times he tried to form the words, he found that he simply could not, the words dying in his throat long before he got the chance to use them in an attempt at cheering her up, and deep down, Link knew the reason for that. It would have been a lie. If he opened his mouth now to tell her that it was all fine, that he had always known that she was not resenting him for what he could not remember, he would have lied, and although it might have been able to make her feel better for a moment, as Link sat there in the grass in front of Zelda, looking up at her, he knew that a lie would only make things even worse.

So, trying his best to ignore the way the option of lying tempted him more than he would have been prepared to admit, he reached out, slowly taking her hand. When she did not react, neither pulling her hand away from him or returning the slight squeeze, Link allowed himself to hope that it was a good sign, that it might be a way for him to know that there was at the very least a chance that they might be able to repair what had been broken between them, to build a bridge across the divide. “Zelda,” he said, making sure to do his best to keep his voice from breaking, not wanting her to see how he too was only moments away from bursting into tears, “please don’t blame yourself for this. I am just as much to blame for how things have been between us since arriving here as you are.”

Zelda sent him a disbelieving look, but at least it was enough to make her stop crying, instead using the sleeve of her tunic to wipe away the tears. “But I was—I am the only one of us capable of remembering,” she insisted, “I should have been able to tell that, with how you were acting, with how different you seemed when compared to the last time I had seen you, there was no other explanation for it than that of your memories still not having returned to you.”

“Just like I should have known better than to try to hide the fact that I did not remember anything from you.” the way Zelda did not immediately interrupt him, did not cut in to explain to him how that was still somehow her fault, ignited a shimmer of hope in his chest, the chance of them finally being able to establish some kind of new balance between them allowing Link to continue. “I could have come to you to ask you about my past, I could have told you that I did not remember anything, and, yet, I did not. No one would have expected that you would have been able to guess what was wrong, so don’t you dare try to blame yourself for any of this.”

Slowly glancing down at him, Zelda knitted her eyebrows, her eyes shining with a strange gleam Link did not know what meant. “You sound so much like before,” Zelda whispered, “right now, you sound so much like you did every time we would return to the castle after another failed attempt at awakening my sealing powers.”

“And I am still the same person I was then, only now, I no longer have my memories of that time.” Link moved closer towards her, almost like the physical gap between them somehow worsened their communication.

But Zelda shook her head, strands of her hair falling in front of her face as she did so. “No, neither of us are the same as we were before. Truly, we aren’t,” she added, seemingly realising how Link was seconds away from objecting, “and we should be happy for that.”

“Why?” Link tilted his head, attempting to make sense of what she was telling him. All this time, he had assumed that the divide between them had been the result of how Zelda had expected to come back to the person she had known before he had lost his memories to the Shrine of Resurrection, being disappointed as she saw how that was not the case. The chance of that not necessarily being true was almost enough to make his head spin. “I thought… I thought that you wanted for things to return to the way they were before.”

“Goddesses, no!” the exclamation seemed to take both of them by surprise, Zelda blinking for a couple of seconds before she was able to continue, shaking her head. “No, the last thing I would have wanted would be for the both of us to have to continue with our lives the way they were before. I… I doubt that any of us would have wanted that, seeing as it was quite lonely.” his confusion must have been apparent, for Zelda took a look at him before elaborating. “I know that you don’t remember, but for several months after we had first met each other, after my father had appointed you to become my personal guard, we barely said a word to each other. At first, I assumed that it was because you were seeing how I was unable to manifest the powers that should have been innate for any princess of Hyrule, that you were looking at me and arriving at the same conclusion as everyone else around me, that I was a failure of a princess.” she must have known that he would have tried to interrupt her, to tell her that, while he might not be able to recall much from the time she was recalling, he knew that he had never thought that, for Zelda held up her hand, signalling for him to let her finish. “It was not until we finally began to speak with each other and actually listening to one another that you told me the reason for why you were so silent.” leaning forward on her chair, Zelda finally gripped his hand, looking directly into his eyes. “Link, we were both trapped. None of us were able to talk with others about how the burden of knowing that we had to save the world felt like it would be enough to crush us. I know that it must feel horrible for you not to be able to remember, but trust me, you do not want to be able to go back to how it once was, and neither do I.”

Searching for any sign that all this, the way she was clearly trying her best to convince him that, even if he would somehow be able to act more like he had done before they had saved Hyrule, she would not want him to, was only something Zelda was telling him to make him feel better, Link leant in as well. But no matter how intensely he studied her face, trying to see if the slight pull of the muscles around her mouth was a sign that she was really trying her best not to cry, he could not find anything to indicate that this was all something she was saying to make him feel like he was not a burden. Slowly, the fact that it might all be real, that she really did mean it dawned on him. Still, it was not nearly enough to answer all his questions, so although the same part of him that had once whispered to him to try to hide how he only saw yet another flower when he would look at the petals of the Silent Princesses that had decorated their home told him to stop while he still could, Link did not let it keep him from attempting to find answers.

“Zelda?” as he said her name, Link could almost feel how the courage he had heard Zelda praise him for left him, but the way she looked at him, the slight smile tucking at her lips, somehow made him able to ignore it and continue. “The flowers, the Silent Princesses, I mean—the ones that I brought home to put in the flower vase—they meant something, did they not?”

Zelda was quiet for so long that, by the time she finally answered, Link had almost assumed that she had decided that she did not have an answer for the question.

With a nod so tiny that he was not sure he would have noticed it had it not been for how close they were sitting, Zelda closed her eyes. “They did indeed. I—before everything happened and the Calamity destroyed Hyrule, they…” he could see how she tried to find the words, whispering something to herself before she opened her eyes and met his gaze, “I think that they were a thing that was ours, something that no one would be able to take away from us. Those flowers… I—you never told me exactly what they meant to you, so I can only tell you what they meant to me, but, for me at least, they were a sign that we could understand one another, that, although we had not been able to see how similar we were in the beginning, we would not let destiny keep us apart. Of course,” she shot him a sad smile, “even though we created the habit of going to look at the flower I was trying to keep in my study each time my father had yelled at me or told me that I was not doing enough to save Hyrule, it was still not enough to keep the Calamity from separating us in the end. But, for a while at least, it seemed that they would be able to keep us together, to make us able to understand the other and to remember that we were more alike than what we had thought at first.”

Although Link was not able to explain exactly what made him think it, he could not help but feel like there was something Zelda did not tell him, that, despite the way she was looking at him, the honesty apparent in both her voice and her eyes, he could sense that she had left something unsaid. However, no matter how much he tried to figure out just what it was, to reach into his memories to find something that would help him solve the puzzle, the answer seemed to slip away from him each time he thought he had found it. But, right then, as he sat there with Zelda, finally able to admit why he had not been able to talk with her, it did not matter to him. After all, with everything Zelda had said, Link knew that he would not want to return to the life they had once lead, would not be willing to exchange the chance to form a new life they had received by being thrown into the future for answers, no matter how tempting the offer to be able to know exactly why the butterflies were fluttering in his stomach was.

So, moving closer, Link made sure to keep his voice calm as he spoke. “Do you want for us to attempt to create a new life? One just for us?”

For a moment, he had almost expected that she would shake her head, but then seeing the way Zelda’s eyes shone when she answered made it feel like she had given him the way to find the answer he had been looking for.

“I would love to.”

And that was really all they could do in that moment. After all, the past was behind them, and no matter what they would do now, they would not be able to change everything that had happened, but the future was in front of them, something they could form and influence, and as he pulled Zelda into a tight embrace, Link knew how that was what they would do. Only, this time, they would do it together.

**Author's Note:**

> This ended up becoming a bit longer than what I had planned, but I really enjoyed writing this. I just love awkwardness! (Only when I write, though. In real life, it is the worst :) )


End file.
